


Cozy Taverns with Your Witcher

by whitedandelions



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27131783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedandelions/pseuds/whitedandelions
Summary: It's freezing outside, but Jaskier’s come too far in his quest for love to give in and go to a tavern to warm up.  Because if he does, he’s sure Geralt’s going to leave him behind for being weak, so he pushes past the cold and keeps moving.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Cozy Taverns with Your Witcher

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



> Hi! Happy Halloween! I super loved your prompt about Jaskier and cozy taverns and couldn’t help writing this! I had so much fun so thank you for your lovely prompt!

It's ridiculously cold outside.

Beyond shrugging on another layer, Geralt doesn’t really notice the cold. He’s slept through worse; he’s _fought_ through worse, but well…

Jaskier is whining. Loudly. He’s dragging his feet, and his teeth is chattering, and for some reason, Geralt can’t bring himself to snap at Jaskier to keep moving. They’re only supposed to be in town to grab supplies and their camping point is further down the path they had marked out a week ago. 

So they really don’t have time to stop for anything, certainly not for a drink at the cozy tavern they’re passing. But Jaskier’s stopped in his path and he’s staring wistfully into the tavern, looking so forlorn that something in Geralt’s chest seizes.

Jaskier’s nose is redder than it should be, and it’s runny as he turns to look at Geralt. “This used to be my favorite place to stop and sing,” he tells Geralt, and Geralt freezes because he’s not sure what Jaskier wants him to say. Does Jaskier want to pop in for a drink? They’re ahead of schedule and it isn’t dark yet and he’s just about to give in when Jaskier walks past the door and past Geralt who is still standing frozen.

“I know, I know,” Jaskier is saying, “We made a schedule and we have to keep to it. I’m not – what are you doing?”

Geralt isn’t even sure what he’s doing so he doesn’t reply. Instead, he opens the door and walks in, the warmth of the tavern a welcome breeze across his face as he does. His stomach growls at the thought of homecooked food, of food that wasn’t just rations and whatnot, and he knows Jaskier is following him because Jaskier pulls the door shut after them. 

He’s weirdly quiet as Geralt orders them food and drinks, and he’s finally looking more animated when they grab a seat. “Are you sure?” he asks, and Geralt shrugs, and that seems to be all the encouragement Jaskier needs because he’s pulling off his layers and grabbing his lute, a smile Geralt hadn’t seen all day already bright and beaming on Jaskier’s face.

His eyes are twinkling as he dashes off toward the fireplace, his lute in tow as he sits and warms his hands. Geralt is just nodding his thanks when the barmaid drops off the food when the familiar notes start strumming through the tavern and he barely withholds a groan as Jaskier starts playing “Toss A Coin To Your Witcher.” Jaskier’s smiling far too happily for him to actually mind, even when he points Geralt out to the crowd’s delight.

His glare is enough to keep any patrons away, and the drink is cheap and delicious enough to whet his appetite as he watches Jaskier play.

By the time dusk approaches, Geralt’s already secured them a room and ordered a few more snacks for Jaskier. Jaskier had been so caught up in playing that Geralt’s sure he will be ravenous as soon as he’s done.

He’s anticipating a bright and thankful Jaskier so at first, he doesn’t notice the way Jaskier is dragging his feet toward their table. As he gets closer, though, Geralt notices, raising his eyebrow as Jaskier all but pouts at him.

“I’m sorry, Geralt,” he says, “I know we were supposed to…” Jaskier trails off, probably because of the way Geralt is looking at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave me.”

He shrugs, pushing the now-cold potato soup over to Jaskier. Jaskier stares at it morosely, before picking up the soup and sipping at it. 

For some reason, Geralt is feeling anxious. He’s not used to feeling this way when he’s not in a fight, so instead of letting Jaskier know, he waves another drink over. He also pushes this over to Jaskier when it arrives and when he does, Jaskier gives him a look.

“This is it, then,” he says, and Geralt blinks. “You’re buttering me up to tell me you’re going to leave me here. I know I’m not…helpful and I –“

“I’m not leaving you,” he says, shocked enough that he doesn’t even have a spare thought to give to his words, “We can change plans.”

Jaskier jumps at his words, his eyes so wide they look like saucers. “You’ve never said that before!” he crows. “You’re not leaving me!”

Luckily, the crowd had already thinned out, leaving just a few patrons and the barmaid who is now shooting them conspicuous looks. Geralt glances around, and he’s used to Jaskier’s voice and while he assumes so is everyone else, it is late and Jaskier looks like he’s already forgotten all about the food Geralt had used his hard earned money to order for him.

He sighs, but it does nothing to bring down Jaskier’s chipper attitude, so since Jaskier isn’t eating, he stands, knowing Jaskier will follow him. And he does, after a chug of the freshly ordered drink, and then he’s stumbling happily after Geralt, his lute precariously placed on his back.

When they get to their room, the hallway is dim, with only candles to light their way. He turns as he’s fitting the key in, and Jaskier is oddly quiet, staring at him with his mouth in a thin line. 

Jaskier’s nose is no longer red like it was before they entered the tavern. For some reason, Geralt can’t help comparing it to the flushed pink that now overtakes Jaskier’s cheeks: from the drink, from the warmth of the tavern, from performing for so long he’s sure that Jaskier’s voice is now hoarse.

He can’t regret stopping at the tavern, not when the alternative was a whiny, bereft bard following after him as they make way toward the next destination. They’ve thrown their plan all off, but the night was fun and Geralt is far too pleased with how Jaskier’s nose isn’t red anymore to mind it too much.

He’s just about to say so when Jaskier drunkenly stumbles forward. In between one second and the next, Geralt suddenly has Jaskier in his arms and it’s easy to support Jaskier up with his strength. After all, they’ve been on the road for a while and Jaskier is much lighter than he had been before he had insisted on following Geralt wherever he wanted to go.

“If I wanted to stay here longer,” Jaskier suddenly pipes up, still making no motion to pull away, “would you stay with me? Or leave?”

“There are things to hunt here,” he offers up after a long second and Jaskier exhales one shaky breath hard before standing on his tiptoes, close enough to Geralt’s height that all he has to do is purse his lips and close his eyes to signify what he wants.

And Geralt freezes, his heartbeat slowing to a stop as time seems to stop moving. This had been why he had given in to Jaskier’s whims. Why he didn’t insist on them continuing down the path they had chosen, why all he wanted to do was see Jaskier smile again.

Geralt’s mind is quick, so only after a few contemplative seconds, he closes the distance.

* * *

They stay at the tavern for a week.

Until the days are no longer cold and Jaskier’s nose is no longer red when they set off for their next destination.


End file.
